A Lean and Hungry Look
by Stanleigh
Summary: SET PRE-1x08. Pythagoras is a genius, a mathematical wonder, a loyal friend. He is also a boy- a boy growing up burdened with a past he cannot change and a future he dreads to face. It is too easy to overlook youth in the face of such intellectual potential...


_DISCLAIMER: I own none of the 'Atlantis' characters, locations etc.; they belong to the BBC. All I own is the plot of this story._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one-shot was inspired by 'Hungry' by Mermes, which I urge you to check out- it is rather marvellous. Trigger warnings for eating disorders; please proceed with caution if you believe you may be affected._

* * *

_"Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look, he thinks too much; such men are dangerous."_- _Julius Caesar_ by William Shakespeare, Act One, Scene Two

* * *

They were running out of money.

Pythagoras sighed heavily as he counted out the gold and silver pieces from the cracked jar that resided underneath his bed. He had taken to hiding it there in an attempt to prevent Hercules from gambling the precious coins away in the tavern. The man could be utterly insufferable.

The price of bread had risen again. The spring harvest hadn't been as fruitful as expected; a severe heat wave followed by a moderate drought in May had brought about the loss of several fields of crops. So far, he had managed to pawn his best pair of sandals, the Egyptian cotton sheets that had mysteriously appeared in the linen cupboard ("Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, my friend", Hercules had said uncomfortably when Jason had confronted him), and the vase that had been a parting gift from his mother. He was determined not to ask Jason for anything to pawn; it would be utterly mortifying, not least because he was technically a guest in their house. He had done enough for them already- Pythagoras wasn't about to ask him to hand over his most precious possessions too.

The front door swung open and banged against the opposite wall. Pythagoras hastily scraped the coins back into the jar and shoved it under his stool, hitching a wide smile on his face as Jason bounced into view.

"Afternoon!" he called jovially, clapping Pythagoras on the shoulder as he moved towards his bedroom. He tensed under the contact.

His stomach suddenly gave a violent rumble. He whacked it sharply with a closed fist, flushing as Jason poked his head through the door way, eyebrows raised.

"Did you forget to eat lunch again?" he asked, grinning. Pythagoras felt as though his face was on fire. He opened and closed his mouth, fishing desperately for an excuse, a witty retort, _anything_-

"I never forget to eat," he mumbled finally, wondering why the heat from his face hadn't yet caused him to burst into flames. "I just haven't had time yet today."

"I know you, Pythagoras," Jason said, that irritating grin still plastered across his face, "You get so caught up in _triangles_ and _equations_ and _angles_ and _vertices_ that Atlantis could be crashing down about your ears and you wouldn't even blink."

"I don't do it on purpose," Pythagoras snapped, "I eat when I'm hungry. We don't all have bottomless stomachs like you and Hercules." His hand flew to his mouth as soon as he'd finished speaking, eyes widening as he realised what he'd done, how rudely he'd addressed Jason: his friend, his _saviour_, the hero of Atlantis-

To his surprise, Jason's grin merely widened and he clapped Pythagoras heartily on the shoulder again. "You're sassy when you're hungry," he observed, eyes twinkling.

"Sassy?"

"Yeah. Sass is like- attitude or- or gumption."

"Gumption?"

"Erm… spirited! That's what I mean. You're spirited. Spirited when you're hungry."

"I'm _not_ hungry," Pythagoras said primly, not at all enjoying the direction in which the conversation was heading. He dragged a crumpled piece of parchment covered with scribbled formulae towards him and stared at it pointedly, hoping that Jason would get the message before his empty stomach gave him away again.

"Have you eaten at all today?" Jason asked him, and this time the laughter was gone from his voice.

"Of course I have." Pythagoras could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'?"

Jason clicked his tongue impatiently. "What did you eat?" His head was cocked to the side, and he was observing Pythagoras through narrowed, shrew-like eyes.

"Don't fuss over me," Pythagoras replied lightly, but his hands shook as he rose from his stool. "I refuse to be interrogated." He saw Jason open his mouth to argue, and pressed on hastily. "But now, I'm afraid, I have several errands to run. If Hercules returns before I, please forbid him from going to that blasted tavern again tonight- I really can't face another morning of waking up to the stench of vomit."

He closed the front door with only a little more force than necessary.

* * *

The city stretched out as far as Pythagoras could squint. Identical slate rooftops and hundreds upon hundreds of sandy stone balconies doubled and multiplied until his eyes crossed with the effort of distinguishing each individual dwelling. A lone eagle soared above the market square, skimming the brightly-striped awnings of the stalls of the bazaar, pushing forwards to circle the elaborate spires and minarets of the royal palace, before dipping down below the shimmering horizon. The late afternoon sun beat down upon Pythagoras' skin. His baggy cotton clothes stuck to him uncomfortably and he felt strangely light-headed. His stomach had stopped rumbling now, but it ached dully and a throbbing pain, as sharp as the point of his compass, reared every few minutes. His mouth felt dry, his lips gummy; his tongue seemed to have swelled to twice its normal size. He shook his head slightly, and winced at the black dots that erupted in front of his eyes. He did not feel at all well.

Perhaps a two hour run had been a little too ambitious.

* * *

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening before he stumbled back up the stairs to the house. He rested against the wall for several minutes, hands scrabbling at the plaster, eyes squeezed tightly shut as the stairwell lurched and revolved. He could feel his heat beating frantically in his chest, thumping against his ribcage.

A movement from inside the house caused him to straighten up. It wouldn't do for Hercules- or, the gods forbid, Jason- to find him gasping out here on the landing. He rolled back his shoulders and, flattening his sweaty hair, pushed open the door.

"Evening," he called, voice carefully modulated to conceal his exhaustion, "Anyone home?"

"Just me." Jason was sat at the table, forehead furrowed and fingers playing absently with a piece of parchment. He held up a hand to stop Pythagoras as he attempted to slink towards his bedroom. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Apprehension exploded in the pit of Pythagoras' stomach, but he nodded mutely and sat down gingerly on the stool opposite Jason. "What is it? I'm all ears."

It was almost a full minute before Jason spoke again. Pythagoras' chest clenched and he fidgeted in his seat, tugging at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.

"Can you stand up for me?"

Pythagoras blinked. "Well, yes…" he answered slowly, making no move to rise. He was a little confused as to where this was heading. "Would you like…?" He trailed off at Jason's noise of assent, getting to his feet and self-consciously moving out from behind the table. Jason's hazel eyes swept over him; the intensity of the scrutiny brought the colour to Pythagoras' face and neck in a tidal wave of heat, and he scuffed awkwardly at the dusty stone floor with the edge of his sandal.

"Where did you go this afternoon?"

Pythagoras looked up sharply. Jason's eyes were blazing in the light of the evening sun.

"I told you, I had errands to run," he lied smoothly. "By the way, did you manage to catch Hercules before he-?"

"Don't change the subject," Jason snapped, and Pythagoras' eyebrows rose in shock. "What errands did you have to run?"

Pythagoras' embarrassment quickly transfused into anger. What right did Jason have to question his every move? He was aching and exhausted and all he wanted was to collapse onto a heap of blankets. Cold sweat was beading on his forehead and although he felt unbearably hot, violent shivers were shooting through him.

"I don't think that's any of your business," he said icily, moving towards his bedroom. Jason leapt to his feet, fingers overlapping as they closed around a bony wrist.

"What were you doing this afternoon?" he asked again, and there was a hint of pleading, of desperation that Pythagoras had never heard in his voice before. He wrenched his arm free of Jason's grip and took several steps back.

"I was running errands!" he yelled in exasperation. "What do you think I was doing? I wasn't stealing, or k-killing anyone, or drinking myself stupid in the tavern if that's what you think-"

"Did you eat?"

Pythagoras nearly choked. "I'm sorry?" he spluttered indignantly. "What sort of a question is that?"

"A simple one. Did you eat? Yes or no?"

"Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Humour me," Jason snarled, "Yes or no?"

Pythagoras froze. If he said no, then Jason would try to make him eat, and in his current state of exhaustion he knew he wouldn't have the willpower to refuse; but if he said yes, then he'd be lying to his best friend. His… he wasn't quite sure of the correct word to describe his _other_ feelings for Jason, those that had surpassed the bounds of friendship. To keep lying to such a man would be sure to corrupt his heart.

But he also wouldn't have to eat.

He'd lied to Jason excessively about this for the past month- one more couldn't hurt.

"Yes, I did," he answered finally, looking Jason defiantly in the eyes.

It was as though a spark, a surge of current had been ignited and was surging through the room. The sudden silence was loud, pressing down upon Pythagoras' ears as Jason took a step back, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment. "You're lying to me," he said hoarsely, with such pain in his voice that Pythagoras nearly cracked. "You're looking me in the eye and lying to my face."

"What makes you so certain?" Pythagoras challenged, though he could feel a terrible, ice-cold panic taking hold of him.

Jason turned on his heel and for a horrid moment Pythagoras thought he was going to leave, but he simply moved back to the table. He reached down, and, with awful finality, set down the jar of coins that had been concealed under Pythagoras' stool.

"You say you were running errands. You say you've already eaten. But here's the money."

Pythagoras swallowed shakily. He felt as though he were being sucked into a vacuum, as though the air was rapidly draining from the room and a hand was closing around his throat, arms constricting his chest as he fought for breath.

"If you can look me in the eye now," Jason said quietly, "And promise me that you're telling the truth- that you _were_ running errands, and that you _have_ eaten- then I'll believe you." He made to move forward, but seemed to think better of it. "Please, tell me the truth, Pythagoras. I want to help you-"

"I don't need help." Pythagoras' voice was low and defeated as he stared at the jar of coins. He couldn't tell Jason the truth. Admitting the truth would be like admitting that he had a problem, and he _didn't_. He was managing perfectly well.

But he didn't want to lie anymore. It was exhausting. The gods punished liars.

"Just tell me what you were doing this afternoon," Jason said softly.

"Running."

"In this heat?" Pythagoras nodded, hating Jason and himself and Hercules for not being there to cause a drunken distraction. "What would possess you to do that?"

He shrugged. "I just felt like getting some exercise."

"For five hours?"

Pythagoras glared at him. "Not everyone is blessed with the perfect physique!"

Jason's eyes widened and he raked a hand haggardly through his hair. "Pythagoras, are you- are you _jealous_ of me? Because you have no idea what I would give for-"

"No! No, I'm not jealous of anyone! Not really- and that's not what this is about."

"I don't even know what this _is_."

"You don't understand."

"No! No, you're right, I don't! Because you won't talk to me, you won't tell me what's wrong!" Jason let out a frustrated breath and kicked at the leg of the table. "Would you prefer to speak to Hercules about it? You've known him longer."

"I don't want to speak about it to anyone."

"Pythagoras-"

"Drop it, Jason, please! I'm fine!"

"If you really think that then perhaps you aren't as clever as everyone makes out."

"What's that supposed to mean? Who is 'everyone'?"

Jason swore under his breath. "No one- it was a slip of the tongue-"

"You really do think I'm an idiot, don't you? I don't appreciate being laughed at behind my-"

"What in the name of the gods is going on in here?"

The boys froze. Hercules came striding into the house, slamming the door behind him so hard that a clay pot slipped off a shelf and smashed on the floor. Pythagoras scooted backwards; the man could be quite intimidating when in a temper.

"What is the meaning of this raucous?" Hercules demanded, glaring at both boys in turn and puffing like an angered bull. "Are you trying to get us evicted?"

"It's nothing," Pythagoras interjected quickly, clasping his hands behind his back, "Jason and I became engaged in a heated debate and we got rather carried away."

"Is anything that comes out of your mouth ever the truth?" Jason asked sardonically.

Pythagoras swallowed furiously in an attempt to rid himself of the large, painful lump that had sprung up to obstruct his throat. "I need some air," he muttered, moving to push past Hercules. He felt as though Jason had slapped him.

"No one is going anywhere until I know what's going on," Hercules growled, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and sitting him down roughly at the table. "I'll hear both sides, thank you. Jason, you've caused the least trouble, so you can go first."

"Quite the mediator, aren't you?" Pythagoras snapped. Hercules ignored him.

"Hercules, if Pythagoras doesn't want to talk to us then we can't force him," Jason said slowly. "Even if I don't really understand what's going on or what he's doing, we have to wait for him to come to us."

"You've changed your tune-"

"SHUT UP!" Hercules roared, clipping Pythagoras over the top of the head.

Jason looked at him sadly. "Just know that we're here if you ever need us, alright?"

"Unless I'm out with Medusa. Then I'm afraid you'll have to rely on Jason," Hercules added cheerfully, but his smug little smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

* * *

Nights in Atlantis were quiet, still. The sky was stained with ink, strewn with burnished rock that looked down, their gazes hot and fierce, upon the inhabitants of the city. Since Jason's arrival, Pythagoras had broken the curfew more times than he cared to admit; it had been set in place by Pasiphae after her marriage to the king in order to reduce crime rates, but it made Pythagoras feel like a rat, confined to a hole for fear of being trampled by a large knobbed boot. A light breeze lifted his hair and he shivered, pulling his blanket tighter about his shoulders.

At the scraping of leather on stone, Pythagoras twisted around to see Jason climbing nimbly up onto the rooftop. He sat down carefully on the low ledge, a respectable distance separating them. A tense, uncomfortable pause settled between them.

"Nice night," Pythagoras said lamely, gesturing half-heartedly at the sky.

Jason shrugged. "I've experienced brighter. Warmer."

"Where? Home?" Pythagoras asked, in what he hoped was an off-hand way. Jason always clammed up whenever his life before Atlantis was mentioned, but Pythagoras couldn't always stave off his burning curiosity. He supposed it was the mathematician in him.

Then again, it wasn't as though he didn't have secrets of his own.

Jason shrugged again. "I guess," he said evasively, "I don't remember." He nudged Pythagoras pointedly. "_You_ look as though you have, though, too. You're shivering."

"Don't start."

They lapsed into uneasy silence once more, Pythagoras making surreptitious attempts to warm his numb hands under the blanket. A pair of sentries marched through the market square below them, the glow of their torches burning streaks of amber into his retinas. He allowed his eyes to fall close.

"I meant what I said earlier," Jason murmured to him. Pythagoras didn't open his eyes. "I'm not going to push you anymore, or- or guilt trip you into opening up. But I wish you would. Something's going on- it has been for a while. Hercules is always either inebriated or pining over Medusa, and he's obtuse at the best of times; I know I'm not a genius like you-" he ignored Pythagoras' snort of derision- "but I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not."

Jason raised his arm. Pythagoras flinched upon instinct, but Jason didn't appear to notice; tentatively, as though the slower he moved the less strange it would be, he placed his arm around Pythagoras' shoulders. Pythagoras tensed, heart rate quickening, veins pulsing as the blood rushed to his face. At the slight movement of Jason's fingers, he slowly allowed himself to relax. He still sat stiffly, but his back was no longer ramrod straight, his right thigh no longer twitching in nervousness.

"You're so thin," Jason breathed, "I can feel your bones."

"You exaggerate," Pythagoras whispered back, fighting with the urges to inch further into Jason's embrace and to throw the invading touch off of him.

Jason didn't reply. He remained silent, holding Pythagoras closely as a lazy, flickering heat radiated between them- until the yowl of cat brought them both back to their respective realities. Pythagoras yawned, and the spell was broken.

They agreed that it was probably time to be turning in.

_FIN_

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Any feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading._


End file.
